The Road Trip Chronicles
by 0Alykinze0
Summary: Once again, Vegeta's peaceful life is rudely interrupted by McDonald's, Africa, and tacos. Crackfic. Coarse language, slight sexual innuendo, some offensive-ish things, and lotsa slapping.


**AN:** I'm back! Ahaha. I've missed writing Vegeta crackfics. Beware, if you've read either of my other ones, this one is waaay dirtier. Lol, I've come a long way since being 12. A few things: I wrote this entirely on my kindle, so if there are any noticeable typos or format errors tell me, because this is my first time. Also, for whatever reason this fanfic has a prominent theme of sexism, lol. I dont mean to offend anyone, and as a woman I'm kinda shocked I wrote this in the first place, aha. I think that's it...enjoy? **~Aly**

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Vegeta grumpily woke up to the sound of gentle robins chirping at early sunrise. After grumbling something about 'exterminating those homosexual excuses for ducks' he catapulted up and rummaged through his drawers in a flesh-eating, corpse-like manner. Finding his goal, which was the used condom he found while digging through a garbage can at Burger King, Vegeta threw it at hard as he could at the birds perched delicately on his windowsill. With very deeply hurt feelings, the robins flew away in tears.

Vegeta plopped back into bed, snuggling with his unicorn pillow pet. He was extremely annoyed. Not only had he been woken up in the most unpleasant way imaginable, but he had also just wasted his favorite used condom. He cared about that condom a lot. Life wasn't fair. Thanks a lot, Obama.

To put the icing on the dark, perverted, rapist of a cake, his worst nightmare happened to walk in at that exact moment.

"Vegeta, get up!" Bulma squawked. "We're driving to Africa for the day, remember?"

"Blegh bumfugh bleuh," he muttered into his pillow.

Bulma crossed her arms. "What did you just say?" She demanded, flipping her hair.

Vegeta sat up and shook his fist at her melodramatically. "I said, woman, _bitches_ be _trippin_!"

She raised an eyebrow at him and stamped her foot, consequently causing her foot to bleed because of the metal spikes they had installed instead of a carpet. "Really, because I could've sworn you just said, 'I have maggots in my scrotum', which is completely untrue because we just did the shock therapy last night and they were taken care of. Now, as a thank-you for making me hold your balls as you repeatedly shocked them with jumper cables for three hours, I suggest you get your ass in the damn car."

Vegeta whined pathetically. "Can I sleep on the way there?" He begged with puppy dog eyes. "I was having one of those good dreams where everyone I know is dead."

"I don't care," she snapped, and beckoned him impatiently downstairs. He retrieved his rocket launcher from under his pillow and attempted to shoot her in the knee, but he soon realized the weapon would have no affect on her. Back in the old days, Bulma had been an experienced mud-wrestler on Jerry Springer, and after acquiring some mysterious woman-injury she had to replace her bones with iron. Damn Chuck Norris and his profound plastic surgery revelations.

Defeated, Vegeta galloped and somersaulted begrudgingly to the car. "Daddy!" squealed little Trunks as soon as Vegeta skipped into the front seat.

"The worst mistake of my life!" He cooed back with equal affection. Trunks beamed like it was the best compliment he'd ever gotten.

"Hey, Daddy, are you-"

"Woman! The fetus is talking to me!" Complained Vegeta as Bulma slid into the driver's seat. Bulma blissfully ignored him as she started the car.

"Is that thing even mine?" He demanded, instantly sinking into one of his PMS-bitch modes. "Where did all that hair come from? Have you been whoring around with Seth Green? Huh?" Bulma still didn't answer, humming the theme song to The People's Court.

"And why are you driving? Everyone knows that women are insufferable, whiney sluts! How _dare _you drive a car! Sausage beats taco, I say!"

"Fine, Vegeta, have it your way! Quit your bitching!" Bulma growled as she squealed the car to a stop, narrowly avoiding a waddling old lady. Vegeta was still grumbling as he and Bulma cartwheeled over each other to switch places.

They were soon on the road again, Vegeta purposefully running over mailboxes and puppies to assert his masculinity. He grew crankier by the minute. "I want orange juice!" Vegeta wailed, pounding his fists against the dashboard.

"What do you expect me to do about that?" Bulma shrieked, painting on her whore-lashes through the side-view mirror.

"Bitch, I said I demand orange juice! I command you to make me some at once! You women get milk from your tits, right? Then where does the orange juice come from? I don't care where, just make it happen!"

"Daddy!" Chirped Trunks from the backseat, "I have an extra juice box if you-"

"Nobody asked you, offspring!" Vegeta hissed back. He started kicking and thrashing around in his seat, destroying the majority of the interior of the car.

"Mommy, I'm scared," mumbled Trunks.

"Look, Vegeta," Bulma coaxed in a soothing tone. "There's a McDonald's right over there. We can pull through the drive-through and get you some orange juice."

Vegeta turned to face her, his mouth agape. He backhanded Trunks and screeched, "_Never_!"

"It wasn't that bad last time," she defended, recalling how he had statistically pulverized hobos, "We'll make it quick."

Vegeta was about to backhand Trunks again when he paused mid-slap. He really wanted some juice, goddamn it. Why did life have to be so difficult for him? He stubbornly crashed into the drive-through.

"Welcome to McDonald's, give me your fucking order," a squeaky, puberty-stricken voice said. Vegeta cringed, dying a little.

"I want-"

"Sir, _sir_." The voice interrupted firmly. "Please calm down."

After a moment of irritated silence, Vegeta said, "What? I'm not even-"

"_Sir_!" The voice scolded. "There's no need to get so worked up. I'm sure there's a resolution to this."

More silence. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Sir, do I have to call security? I don't like your tone."

"...I just want some orange juice. Jesus Christ."

"If you don't settle down, I'll have to call the authorities to have you escorted off the premises. I is a grandpa, ain't nobody gonna talk like that to me." The teenager paused, then added, "Also, would you like to try our Fishy Scallop Mutton McPig Intestine Grease McMini Bites today?"

After that McDonald's was destroyed, and orange juice was successfully stolen from an ethnic orphanage, the family was on the road again. "Let's sing a song!" Vegeta lisped brightly, his Broadway side coming out. To the tune of Mary had a Little Lamb, they wailed:

Goku is a total dick

He sucks ass

He's a douche

Goku is a selfish prick

And Vegeta is the shit

Vegeta burst into overflowing, giant tears. "I love you guys, you know that?" He gushed, chugging orange juice. In his reverie he accidentally ran over a pregnant man.

"No!" screamed a scientist as he ran out with a needle. "He was a medical prodigy! He was the only pregnant man in the history of time! How dare you?"

"Oh God, he's dead!" wailed a random blonde woman.

"Shut up!" shouted the scientist, and he slapped her across the fake boobs. The crowd around them erupted into gigantic, nuclear explosions and confetti.

"Shit. Road trip ruined," muttered Vegeta wistfully. "Oh well. Bath time!" He sang.

He twirled and floated up into the clouds, on a quest to find the bubbliest bubble bath in all the kingdoms. But he accidentally forgot his orange juice, so he got really mad and punched a rainbow, which was, like, really messed up if you think about it. Like, poor rainbow.

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**AN:** Quite possibly the most random crackfic ending I've ever written. Wtf. Lol, anyway, the reason why I revisited McDonald's was because you guys seemed to like it, and when I went to McDonald's the other day I noticed they are now selling something like Mini Fish McBites, so...inspiration. Anyway, maybe some of you actually enjoyed that, so review maybe? :D If you did like that, try my other stories :) Hasta la pasta **~Aly**


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